


The Fire Banshee's Reward

by lextenou



Category: Original Work
Genre: Challenge Reponse, Community: Kim Possible Slash Haven, F/F, Inspired by Kim Possible, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 15:42:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextenou/pseuds/lextenou
Summary: The battles in which the Fire Banshee engages are not often fought in the nuddy. First time for everything, she supposes.





	The Fire Banshee's Reward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarvingLunatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarvingLunatic/gifts).



> Originally posted to Kim Possible Slash Haven back in the day as a response to a prompt from StarvingLunatic.

The heavy oaken door creaked solidly shut behind the simply tuniced soldier. In the Great Room below, the celebration for the end of the battle continued to rage, tankards raised to those who fell and songs of bawdy nature sung by those who survived. Through it all, the name of the one who had emerged as the greatest warrior of the day rang loudly. The heavy boots of the hero of the moor scuffed against the thrushed floor as the light from the roaring fireplace bathed the slender form. Strength lined the cotton clad shoulders, broad and capable in the flickering candlelight.

The King's favorite had come to claim the prize that was owed.

Sharp green eyes swept the room, automatically scanning for danger. Seeing no overt threat, the calm gaze returned to the slight girl that perched on the edge of the wide bed in a clean shift. The material was thin enough that the knight could clearly see the dusky nipples poking into the cotton, barely visible beneath cascading waves of bright red hair.

The knight bit back a foul curse at viewing the smooth young face that shined above the light shift. The girl could not have passed more than fifteen summers - a properly marriageable age, to be sure. The knight, however, had long since learned that the innocent held little enticement.

"How many have you serviced?"

The girl swallowed at the rough question. Dalliance would not be tolerated by the imposing figure framed by the shut door's jamb. "None, my lord."

"You lie. There have to have been others. What is your experience as a whore, girl!"

Shaking her head, the girl cast her gaze downward. "I swear on the Holy Mother, my lord, none have I lain with."

The knight exhaled slowly, narrowing keen eyes on the seated girl. "Joyous. Hargrew sent me a virgin." With a heavy sigh, the knight stepped further into the room, allowing the girl to spy precious few more details. Tall, the knight was, with a delicate handsomeness that was the height of vogue at court. The slender frame moved with powerful deliberation, each twitch of muscle intended with purpose. Shadowed eyes, glinting green beneath the dark shock of hair, latched onto the girl once more. "Your name and kin, girl."

"Kaerlyn, my lord. I have no kin of these lands. I and mine are of the Hinterlands." The girl's voice strengthened with pride as she spoke the name of her homeland.

"And you made it here untouched? Your skills in battle must be truly formidable." The words were not uttered lightly - those of the Hinterlands found precious few friends in court.

"I know not, my lord."

"Mmm. I'm certain you don't. No wonder Hargrew gave you to me."

"My lord?"

The questioning lilt of the girl's voice brought a quirk of a humorless smile to the knight's lips. "Aye, chit. You belong to me."

The girl swallowed hard, her hands clasped so tightly together that her knuckles turned white. "What is to become of me?"

"That shall depend on tonight." The knight strode forward, pausing before the girl, who did not dare to raise her gaze to ascertain if the sparkle of those green eyes still twinkled at her from underneath the pitch dark hair. The warm bulk of the knight's body, so close at hand, set her heart to a thrumming pace, thundering within her chest. "Prepare my bath."

"Yes, my lord." The girl leapt to her feet and scurried to the bathing area. She rang down to the kitchens and within moments, the tub was filling. Lazy tendrils of steam curled towards the ceiling from the rising water. As the final drops cascaded into the tub, she turned to inform the knight that the bath was prepared. Her words died in her throat as she spied the warrior's activities.

The light tunic skimmed over the knight's head, one negligent hand depositing the simple garment on the broad expanse of the bed. Well formed lean muscle shifted and tensed as the warrior straightened up, stretching long arms over the dark head. Lowering her gaze, the girl spoke softly, her cheeks flushing at the sight of smoothly muscled form on decadent display.

"May I assist you with your wound, my lord?"

Glancing down, the knight let out a short bark of laughter. Hands moving to the broad cloth strips wrapped around the muscled chest, the knight grinned widely and spoke with no small humor. 

"I bear no wound, child. You truly are an innocent to have not heard tales of the Fire Banshee."

The girl inhaled sharply, her wide eyes riveted on the powerful hands unwrapping the cloth to reveal a pair of small breasts that puckered in the warm air of the chamber.

"My lord!"

The knight waved her hand in dismissal at the title. "Enough. Call me by Morgan or call me not at all."

Blushing, the girl ducked her head, forcing herself to cease gawking at the smooth expanse of light skin before her. "Yes, Morgan."

The light clanking of metal on metal told the girl that Morgan sought the removal of her trousers, and she could see in her mind's eye the way the cloth would bunch and release around slim hips.

"You tested the water, aye?"

Kaerlyn nodded, clearing her throat slightly. "Yes, Morgan."

The rustle of cloth subsided, letting Kaerlyn know that she now stood in the same room as the naked Fire Banshee, the scourge of the battlefield, so named for the cleansing fire of fury that was released on the enemy.

And the Fire Banshee was as naked as the day she was born.

Strange thought, that, Kaerlyn mused. She could hear the light splashing of a lanky body being lowered into the bath, water slapping against the sides of the tub.

"Shall I bathe you, my - Morgan?" Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she waited for the warrior's response.

"Mmm. You may. The soap is in the chest." Morgan laid her head back against the edge of the tub, her long arms resting on the lip of the tub. Closing her eyes, she waited for Kaerlyn's next move. She didn't have to wait long.

Morgan's lip quirked upward as the felt the expected cool steel against the smoothly exposed column of her throat. Predictable. With a steady, deliberate motion, she opened her eyes and met head on the confusion that swirled in the depths of emerald green eyes and made Kaerlyn's full mouth into a thin line. The cold line of the blade against her steadily pulsing vein should have probably made Morgan feel exposed, as should have the state of undress which she existed within. Kaerlyn probably thought she had the upper hand.

The slow, lazy grin that twinkled with mischief was exactly the opposite of what Kaerlyn expected. Perhaps that's why she missed Morgan's hand rising to capture her wrist in a shackling grip.

"Come now, is that anyway to treat someone who is willing to protect you? Or should I have expected this from a Hinterlander?" Morgan laughed, the low sound echoing slightly in the chamber. "You could at least have the courage to follow through." She released the wrist she gripped, lifting her chin slightly. "Go ahead." The bravado fled as she met the Hinterlander's eyes squarely. "I grow weary of this life I lead. Death might at least be an adventure."

Kaerlyn stood over the trimly muscled frame that reclined easily in the warm water of her bath, staring blankly down into a handsome face lined with a relaxed expectation. Such a strange creature the Fire Banshee was turning out to be... "What sort of life do you lead that death seems a boon?"

Morgan laughed shortly and closed her eyes. "Every day I ride for my king and country and return empty handed to a cold bed. I fight and win, only to be repaid with a new body slave I care not to keep. I have no real use for slaves, so they always end up freed at my hand. Hargrew knows this. It is his game. He seeks to find the slave that I will not free." Morgan's lip curved in a self-deprecating smile. "Perhaps I am a sentimental fool, seeking to be desired for who I am rather than the circumstance of my ownership of someone." Verdant green eyes opened, once again meeting Kaerlyn's frowning gaze directly. "It is with this knowledge that I discharge you, Kaerlynn of the Hinterlands, from your duties to I and mine. I seek not a body slave. I seek not an assassin. I merely seek that which shall content my heart of it's ill humor." Laughing hollowly, she shot a wry smirk to Kaerlynn. "Either use the blade or put it away. I would finish my bathing."

Frozen, her mind unable to process that which she had been regaled with, Kaerlynn stood dumbly over the tub and the reclining Morgan, her limp hand still holding the blade against Morgan's pale neck. 

Heartbeats extended at great length in the still room before Morgan growled and grasped the standing girl's wrist. "Dammit, girl, I told you to put that away." Twisting the blade from Kaerlyn's limp grasp, Morgan dropped it to the hard ground on the other side of the tub from Kaerlyn. Glaring at the girl, who had still not moved much, the warrior looked the girl over and heaved a long suffering sigh. "Great. If I don't kill them with steel, I kill them with words." 

Rising from the depths of the tub, Morgan pushed Kaerlyn upright, to allow the Fire Banshee room enough to emerge from the bath. Water cascaded down the lanky frame, sluicing over defined musculature and returning to the still warm tub.

Guiding the girl to the bedroom proper, Morgan watched the chit carefully. Sidelong glances kept being tossed her way, a hint of desperation edging around the corners of the girl's eyes and mouth. Perhaps she might yet get some dalliance from this untried girl yet.

As the thought flitted through her mind, Morgan cursed. A knight of the realm did not press his suit against a pure lady, leaving her unmarred for her husband. Sighing, Morgan led the girl to the bed and guided her to sit on the soft edge. 

"Kaerlyn." Shining, confused green met Morgan's own calm gaze. "You are allowed to stay with me as long as you care to. Should you wish to return to your homelands, I shall do what is in my power to assist you. Should you wish to remain, I shall make it your reality. Do you understand?"

Blinking slowly, Kaerlynn nodded. Morgan didn't quite believe that the girl recognized what Morgan had just sworn herself to uphold. Standing upright, Morgan once again stretched, yawning largely. There was a bath that awaited her return.

A warm hand threaded through the length of Morgan's hair, angling her head and pulling it down to meet a pair of softly pouting lips. Captured deliciously by the insistent press of a soft kiss, Morgan cursed mentally even as she wrapped her arms around the slender form that pressed against her nudity.

She was never going to get a chance to bathe.


End file.
